


Engaged to be Engaged

by fencer_x



Category: Free!
Genre: Engagement, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-21
Updated: 2018-01-21
Packaged: 2019-03-07 15:23:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13437648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fencer_x/pseuds/fencer_x
Summary: Rin tries to put together the perfect proposal—but as usual, Haru never makes anything Rin wants to do with him easy.





	Engaged to be Engaged

Rin made a sound, low in his throat, that sounded somewhat inhuman—a kind of frightened squeak that gurgled on the end in defeat. Not that he could really be blamed—most, he would argue, would have made the same inelegant sound as well, had their friend-slash-rival-slash-erstwhile-boyfriend-slash-something-that-sounded-less-sappy-than-future-fiance-but-more-meaningful-than-'life-partner' finished off the entirety of the meal course in which they'd hidden a reasonably-priced engagement ring.

Sure, usually things like this were usually (at least as far as Rin understood it from the half-dozen romantic-comedies he'd marathoned last weekend) done using a glass of wine or an intricate dessert—something really _flashy_ and romantic—but Rin maintained that it was the thought behind the gesture and not the vehicle that counted, and while "stuffed inside a mackerel fillet" wasn't the _traditional_ avenue for presenting a ring to a potential matrimonial partner, _this_ would mean more to Haru in the end than dessert or booze. It was either the fillet or the miso soup course, after all, and well, Haru was _already_ in a good mood when he had a plate of mackerel in front of him. Rin liked his odds better that way.

Not that, he maintained, he expected Haru to turn him down. Not really. Well, worst-case scenario, Haru might give him some crap like, "I only spend my life with another person freestyle," or an equally irritating and cryptic response, but...he wouldn't say _no_. Not after five years, not with the movers arriving Monday morning to haul their boxes halfway across the country to their new apartment in a city with a population 20 times the size of their entire _prefecture_. They'd _kind of_ discussed it, sort of. Usually in the sweet-nothings babbled after a rather spectacular orgasm—sandwiched in between _fuck that was the best one yet_ and _ugh I need a shower now_. Okay maybe not so much _discussed it_ as Rin had said something to the effect of _I want to do this kind of thing with you for the rest of my life_ and Haru had never offered anything to the contrary beyond a satisfied grunt as he groped on the nightstand for his bottled water.

Shit, he wouldn't seriously turn him down, would he?

No—no, there was no way.

Unless it turned out the reason that the ring—the ring that was the crux of this whole affair, the ring _Nagisa_ of all people had finally pushed him to purchase because _Haru-chan's not getting any younger!_ which made no sense whatsoever, but was at least more effective in lighting a fire under his ass than Makoto's easy smile and shrugged _I think Haru will be happy either way—so maybe just do what you want to?_ and Rei's irritatingly illogical _Well the global divorce rate at present is rather uninspiring, but then again you aren't getting married, per se, so...perhaps you'll be fine?_ —unless _that ring_ had been _swallowed_ by the very person whose finger Rin had wanted to place it on. Haru would probably be a hell of a lot less keen on the idea of making their arrangement a formally permanent one if asked to wear something he'd _digested_.

He tried to keep his features schooled, glancing around the room as subtly as possible—maybe it had slipped off the plate somehow, rolled away or slipped between the tatami mats in the room somehow? Haru was, at present, casually sipping his miso soup with closed eyes, and seemed perfectly content with the meal he'd just had. Rin silently envied him his composure—but then, maybe if he hadn't been so caught up in trying to make the thing a big flashy romantic gesture and just _asked_ , this wouldn't have happened.

"It's gonna get cold."

Rin jumped in his skin, blinking a few times before he realized Haru was speaking to him. He followed Haru's subtle nod to his own bowl of soup, sitting unattended on the table between them. "Oh...yeah, I'll...I'll finish it off in a few." Maybe it had rolled off the plate when he'd brought the trays in from the kitchen? He could slip back and check under pretense. "I—I'm gonna get a refill—" He held up his half-empty glass of tea. "Want some more?"

Haru's content frown deepened into one of mild irritation. "I'm not heating the soup up again if it chills on you."

Rin flushed, feeling like he was being treated like a child. "I know that. I never asked you to. I'm a big boy, I can work the microwave myself. A refill?" Haru just glanced away again, staring off into space and sipping his own soup. The silent treatment— _super_ mature. The guy sure could pick the most ridiculous things to be petulant about; maybe they just hadn't had their daily fight yet today and he'd decided _this_ was the thing to be a brat about.

Rin huffed and slipped back onto his floor pillow, reaching for the miso soup with a _Happy now?_ directed at Haru; if he wanted him to drink his fucking soup so badly, then he _would_.

And he nearly choked on the ring with the first deep gulp.

Coughing and hacking until the band clattered to the table, he gaped in horrified shock—shit shit _shit_ he'd dropped it in his own soup somehow and now it was just _sitting_ there, coated in his saliva and digestive fluids and all sorts of disgusting stuff like that and he'd _ruined_ the proposal. He was never going to get a do-over, not with Haru unawares at least, and this was _humiliating_ , Haru probably thought he was the most—

"Yes."

He froze, gaze lifting up slowly with his brows halfway up his forehead—and found Haru calmly staring him down, head cocked slightly to the side and lips firmed into a line, which was the closest Haru ever came to really _laughing_ , instead opting for a kind of bemused expression that said he found Rin ridiculous but didn't dislike that about him. And Rin panicked, face flushing a deep red. "Wai— _NO!_ Noooo no no, no! This is _wrong_! You don't get to say that right now—not _right_ now! This isn't how I meant to do it at all, and like hell—"

"I know."

Rin ignored him barreling on through with his explanation, grand sweeping gestures nearly knocking his glass over and soaking the tatami matting beneath their feet. "No, no see—I meant to use the mackerel fillet, and the ring was gonna be stuffed inside, so when you cut into it—and then I had this whole thing rehearsed and I even got Nitori to look over it for me because he's an anal little shit, and now—wait, what?" He took a few gasping breaths, mouth gaping in shock. "You—know?"

Haru just shrugged. "I found it stuffed inside the fillet when you went to get the salt earlier. You weren't really subtle, you know; I figured out what you meant to do and slipped it into your soup instead." Rin's shoulders slumped in defeat at the nonchalant way Haru rattled off just how what was supposed to be one of the most important moments of Rin's rather momentous-moment-filled life had been ruined. Like he didn't think it was nearly as big a deal as Rin did. "You could've just asked me like a normal person, you know."

He probably hadn't meant it to come off as accusing, but Rin was already feeling like he'd just fallen flat on his face and _ruined_ something he'd wanted to remember for the rest of his life—something that, when he was too old to remember what he'd had for breakfast that morning, he'd still recall clear as day (or if he didn't, would be in the Wikipedia article people would write about him, just before the section detailing his [and Haru's] extensive and successful Olympic career). "One—that's not romantic in the _least_." Haru rolled his eyes, naturally. "And two—the _last_ time I tried asking you to do something 'like a normal person', you told me you only swim freestyle and then we didn't talk for five years." He made a face and wrinkled his nose petulantly. "So I'm through with being direct with you; it clearly gets me nowhere."

"Maybe you just need to work on your timing."

Rin raked him with a confused glance, hesitantly reminding, "...I thought I _nailed_ the timing, personally."

Haru just huffed in irritation and gathered up their bowls onto the tray they'd used to carry the food in from the kitchen, easing to his feet. "Slow as usual, Matsuoka." He threw Rin a sidelong glance over his shoulder. "Or did you miss the fact that the realtor's been laboring under the assumption that I'm moving in with my wife 'Nanase Rin-san' since I took that trip to Tokyo to sign papers for our apartment last month?"


End file.
